“Now look ’ere,” she said in her rough way, “you must make the Red ’Ouse your ’ome. Liberty ’All, as I call it! Get up and go to bed; go out and come in, just when you see fit--do what you like, see what you like, and invite your friends, as if the ’ouse was your own. The Baron and I are often ’alf the day at the boot shop, but that need make no difference to you. I daresay you’ll find some way to amuse yourself. You’re the daughter of the ’ouse, remember, and free to do as you choose!” Harriet gladly accepted the offer. She had no friends of her own to go to, and the prospect of living by herself, in an unknown city, was rather lonely. She was full of anticipation also that by means of the Red House and the Baroness’s influence, she would soon hear of, or see, Captain Pullen again--full of hope that Madame Gobelli would write to the young man and force him to fulfil the promises he had made to her. She did not want to know Prince Adalbert or Prince Loris--at the present moment, it was Ralph and Ralph only, and none other would fill the void she felt at losing him. She was sure there must be some great mistake at the bottom of his strange silence, and that they had but to meet, to see it rectified. She was only too glad then, when the day for their departure from Heyst arrived. Most of the English party had left the Lion d’Or by that time. The death of Mrs. Pullen’s child seemed to have frightened them away. Some became nervous lest little Ethel had inhaled poisonous vapours from the drainage--others thought that the atmosphere was unhealthy, or that it was getting too late in the year for the seaside, and so the visitors dwindled, until the Baroness Gobelli found they were left alone with foreigners, and elected to return to England in consequence. Harriet had wished to write to Captain Pullen and ask for an explanation of his conduct, but the Baroness conjured her not to do so, even threatened to withdraw her friendship, if the girl went against her advice. The probabilities were, she said, that the young man was staying with his sister-in-law wherever she might be, and that the letter would be forwarded to him from the Camp, and fall into the hands of Mrs. Pullen, or Miss Leyton. She assured Harriet that it would be safer to wait until she had ascertained his address, and was sure that any communication would reach him at first hand. “A man’s never the worse for being let alone, ’Arriet,” she said. “Don’t let ’im think ’e’s of too much consequence and ’e’ll value you all the more! Our fellows don’t care for the bird that walks up to the gun. A little ’olesome indifference will do my gentleman all the good in the world!” “O! but how _can_ I be indifferent, when I am burning to see him again, and to hear why he never wrote to say that he could not come to Brussels,” exclaimed Harriet, excitedly. “Do you think it was all falsehoods, Madame Gobelli? Do you think that he does not want to see me any more?”